All Your Base Are Belong To Us
by Vixen Tail
Summary: To one who has lived a full life, death is but the next greatest adventure… or at least, that is how it should be if one wasn't going to be killed well short of a full life. Figuring out what to do when one of Death's trinkets throws a spanner wrench into things is another thing entirely. AU TimeTravel Crossover.
1. Part One, Chapter One

**Disclaimer** : **Harry Potter** and related characters belong to _J.K. Rowling_. **Naruto** and related characters belong to _Kishimoto Masashi_. I'm just playing in the sand-box over here.

**Rating** : I believe will be a **T** until such time as the dead parts are over. You'll see what I mean.

**Author's Note** : So… this would be why chapters of **Pawprints** have been stuck on the backburner. As an explanation, I supposed I should start by saying this fic is inspired by the unfinished **Paradoxicality** written by _Willow-Bee the Cat_. While I liked the premise of the story, it was mostly abandoned several years ago and I didn't really liked how they went about it. This promises to have 100% less talking magical/ninja cats somehow smoothing things over, even if that was kind of bada**. I will admit having the two (Hermione and Kakashi) meet in the near-death experience part is his/her/it's idea, but the how and why written here is all my creation.

I am aware the epilogue of Harry Potter has the four of them (Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione) poping kids out like it's nothing immediately after the war, but that's a bit more than I can agree with. For one, I don't like the Harry/Ginny pairing simply because she's a damn fangirl and her behavior at the end of book six was rather disturbing. For two, I have no faith in the Ron/Hermione pairing because they fight way too much and Ron's a bit of a prat. I really don't see either relationship lasting more than a few years, married or not, and so my work will reflect that. As to any children named in the end of book seven, no. Albus Severus alone? Hell no. Again, for one Harry abhorred Snape way too much and way too long to have ever actually agree to name his kid after the man. Great spy, sure. Decent man? Nope, hell didn't freeze over.

Because did everyone forget his hand in Sirius' death? Yes? No?

* * *

**All Your Base Are Belong To Us**

**Part One, Chapter One**

* * *

To one who has lived a full life, death is but the next greatest adventure… or at least, that is how it should be if one wasn't going to be killed well short of a full life.

Hermione Jean Weasley wasn't really looking forward to her next great adventure, she was still rather involved with living out this one. However, it didn't look as if she would have the chance to actually live out her life.

Harry was… probably far enough away, no matter how much time the witch tried to buy for him to somehow rescue her from this latest cluster-fuck. Ron _should_ have been here… but her husband had another episode being a jealous prat and stormed off earlier.

It made her wonder, sometimes, exactly why did she marry him.

Hermione wrenched her attention back to the matter at hand before her mind could wander off down old worries, deftly sorting out the rune arrays she was trying to understand and ignoring the less dangerous ones.

The day was supposed to be a rare day off for the former 'Golden Trio'. Between Lord Harry James Potter's Wizengamot duties, his position as Teddy Lupin's Godfather, husband of one Ginny Potter, and his own Auror work, Harry didn't have a lot of free time to spend. Hermione was nearly just as bad, dogging the faded footsteps of one of their old classmates' aunt, Amelia Bones, in between her own work as a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, being both wife of their other friend Ron and Molly's daughter-in-law.

Yes, the last two were very different things.

Aware the redirecting parts of the rune array was causing her concentration to slip yet again, the witch huffed and refocused. Kneeling on cobblestones wasn't really that great, she could feel the stones press into her kneecaps and a sharp bit of something jabbing her shin. The discomfort helped slightly, though, as any shifting she did pointedly returned her attention to the matter at hand.

This was a very nasty example of how to inflict harm without ever being in the same area using magic. A rune bomb, for all intents and purposes.

Hermione wasn't sure if someone was aping the muggles and the nuclear abilities they had, or if this was just one more aspect of war-mage knowhow that caused the current overdependence on wands to be forced. The old magics were more powerful than what a modern-day wizard could do, more taxing and therefore more effective. On the other hand, it was also much more destructive in the right, or wrong, hands.

One only had to look at what destruction Tom Riddle Jr. had wrought on the magical society to see that.

If this detonated in the middle of Diagon Alley, the death-toll would be enormous. Not only she and her best friend Harry would pay the price, but Teddy was here with Andromeda Tonks. That didn't include the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes with her brother-in-law and his store just down the street, all his customers, and everyone else in range of this thing that could end up killed if the formerly bushy-haired witch failed to disarm the damn thing. A few of Harry's fellow Aurors were helping him try clearing up the street, but magic was a frustrating thing sometimes. There were still people flooing into shops that had been hastily closed and Apparating into the street itself.

She could see most of what the bomb had in terms of protection, the surprisingly well-crafted attention deflection she was defeating with sheer mental focus and the proximity trigger that would go off if she tried touching the etched silver covering the worst of the runes. Thankfully the proximity trigger would only go off at human touch, because flipping the plate of silver with a piece of trash hastily transfigured into a stick worked just as well as touching it herself. Underneath it was fairly simple, a rune etched container of some liquid, a pocket watch, and a note.

Hermione warily eyed the container, identifying the liquid as class-B Erumpent Horn Fluid. That much would be more than enough to put a sizable hole in downtown London, no matter what caused it to go off. The pocket watch told her nothing more than what she already knew, that it was just two minutes until noon.

The note, on the other hand, told her she was concentrating on the wrong thing.

She drew a blank for a very long moment, until the underside of the silver shell caught her attention… and the runes carved there.

(ooo000ooo)

Hermione blinked, then blinked again as she blankly stared out into the dark swamp she found herself in.

A large part of her mind was fishing back over the last few moments in her memory. Between her rather embarrassing 'muggle moment', as her husband ever so lovingly referred them to, and trying to understand what had just happened to her that made her end up here.

One thing Hermione had never gotten used to in her life was how most wizards and witches thought when it came to applying magic outside the box. Like any muggle-raised witch, Hermione though the silver plate was a covering and not the bomb itself. Which had turned out to be only half right, if the slowly forming suspicion she was trying not to acknowledge was right.

That also meant that someone had targeted her or someone that thought like her.

For the last few years, there had only been a small increase of muggle-born Aurors in the force. The lingering damage from the Second Wizarding War's second half, the systematic execution of the majority of muggle-born witches and wizards, had prevented anyone from wanting to try their hand at any job in the Ministry of Magic. Hermione had been an exception rather than the norm, much to her own disappointment. Even after fighting for the right to live no matter her circumstance of birth, muggle-borns were still the minority in the Ministry.

Harry had just been telling her that over lunch before they were both called in to help secure the site, and how happy he was to see a handful more applying for the Auror training course.

It was possible not everyone was happy with that same fact as Harry was, and instead wanted the status-quo to remain as is. Purebloods in control of everything, as it had been for centuries before.

Hermione spent another moment thinking, rather brainstorming, what the event would effect and what yet more deaths would mean for her society, and then pushed it away.

Given her surroundings, it may be possible she wouldn't have the opportunity to do anything about it. Best to concentrate on the now and push any lingering resentment of her co-workers calling in old family favors to be promoted ahead of her for later.

Hermione was rather certain she had met her end, and with the benefit of hindsight and the lack of urgency over the situation she fully realized handling things herself had been a terribly bad idea. Her musings over her actions, even if they were her last ones in the living world, was tempered with the realization that she had overestimated her reliable logic in face of the rune array's distractions. The array allowed her to focus on it, but that had also been worked into it's self-defense. Instead of enabling her a good look, it influenced her into acting on her own… without a second pair of eyes to help her or waiting for a damn Curse-Breaker to arrive on scene.

It had encouraged rashness if it couldn't distract. A rather insidious little twist, if the witch was forced to be honest.

Forcing back her bleated realizations over what she had done, something she had experience in from a year spent on the run and stealing to support herself and her boys, Hermione turned her attention to the present so she could afford a break-down later.

She inspected the place she seemed to have arrived in, staunchly ignoring the part of her that whispered about her supposed 'death'. Standing on a rickety wooden walkway stretching through the swampy marshland, only odd because she didn't recall standing up, the witch inspected the mossy trees and the murky water with a detached sense of bemusement.

Harry got King's Cross in his death-defying adventure, she apparently wasn't that straightforward and got a swamp instead.

The Man-Who-Won eventually told her and Ron about that incident one bitter winter night, between Voldemort cursing his own Horcrux out of Harry's head and his surprise return for the last bit of fighting. Meeting Dumbledore and his conversation about Tom Riddle's ultimate fate was something Hermione hadn't envied her brother in all but blood.

However… they had assumed Harry had the misadventure he had because the Killing Curse only took out the Horcrux and not the young man himself.

Hermione didn't have a Horcrux in her head, or attached to her soul, or anything whatever fates in existence would accept in exchange for death-defying in the traditional Potter manner.

Warily keeping an eye on her disturbingly silent and dreary surroundings, the witch bent her formidable brainpower onto figuring out what she and Harry had in common and why she was where she was.

At the time of the Battle for Hogwarts, Harry had… no, that couldn't be it. He had… all three Deathly Hallows?

Not that he physically had the wand, because Voldemort still held it and used it against Harry in that last exchange. Or the stone, because from what he told them he cast that aside in the forest just before walking to his assumed death.

At the time, he only physically held the cloak.

Hermione blinked down at the black water under the warped wooden planks she was standing on, considering that.

About a year or so after the final battle of the war, and after the discussion of what had happened to him that day, Harry had confided in the other two that the Hallows refused to stop following him. Even after casting the Resurrection Stone aside and breaking the Elder Wand, they still appeared on his bedside table with the Invisibility Cloak every morning. Upon discussing it, or more like talking Harry down from a complete freak-out over the 'Master of Death' title, they split the Hallows up. Harry kept the cloak, as it was an heirloom of his family. Ron, of course, picked the unbeatable wand and surprisingly used it to prop open their bedroom window. Hermione claimed the stone, just to remove temptation from Harry to go out like his long dead ancestor who initially held the stone, and used it as a…

She reached under her neckline, picked up the chain she wore, and stared at the little cracked black gem set in a silver pendent for a long moment.

The symbol of the Deathly Hallows gleamed back at her, glowing slightly brighter since the last time she paid attention to it.

Well… as her husband would say… _Bloody Hell_.

She had never used it, in fact she stubbornly ignored it was there most days. The only reason she had it was to reassure Harry and keep him from abusing the souls of those long dead as he asked her to.

Hermione dropped the necklace, returning her attention to the eerie swamp she was in. Hallow influenced or not, she was no wilting wall-flower who would passively accept what came to her.

She was dead, this wasn't like any other out-of-body experience she ever heard or read about, and one of the Hallows had followed her. The witch sat herself on the worn wooden walkway she found herself on and allowed herself a few moments to wallow in regret, recriminations, and a few _why me?_

It was after wishing that Harry got Teddy and Andi out of there in time, and before she could start wondering what her in-laws would say about her demise, that Hermione pulled herself together and thought back to what Harry had told her and Ron about his encounter with this event.

A train to go on or deciding to go back was what Harry had faced in the end with Dumbledore. Hermione was facing… a walkway through a swamp. On her own.

Giving her surroundings another hard look, the witch decided she had three choices, and several ways of carrying out any choice. She could follow either end of the wooden path she was on, but since she had appeared facing neither direction it rambled into she didn't know which one was forward or back. She could wait where she was and hope that would take her back, for Harry hadn't said what had taken him back to the clearing in the living realm.

Or she could step off the path, and that held the most promise of losing her way in more ways than one.

Her surroundings were oppressively dark in a way, thick tree cover choked out all but the weakest glimmers of light that only seemed to highlight the lack of illumination available. Reeds and a few thick bushes hemmed the waterways as much as their bigger cousins concealed the sky, lending the atmosphere a gloomy kind of ambiance. At odds with the dark surroundings, the wooden planks that made up the walkway she was seated on were bleached and weather beaten.

Given all the fairytales she had read, Hermione was rather tempted to remain on the path. Not just because the swamp in particular looked rather unhospitable, but some races of beings were rather strict on the remaining on clear paths parts. The Fay, in a word, who's realm of responsibility sometimes included the unseen paths of the world this very well may be part of.

Narrowing down the two options to one, because she wasn't going to allow herself to wallow any more if there was the slightest sliver of hope of putting her wrongs to right, gave the witch a hard time. On one hand one direction looked as if more light was just beyond the bend, on the other hand the opposite direction's path looked a bit more stable.

Getting to her feet, and ignoring the creaking of old wood that sounded impossibly loud in the oppressive silence around her, Hermione almost took a step down the darker path before something occurred to her.

Just because it looked stable wasn't necessarily because it was more stable. Additionally, it was darker and it seemed to press into very shadowy areas from what little she could make out beyond the closest moss covered trunks. Somehow the whole effect drew her mind into comparing it with the 'unknown'.

…and wasn't lighter some universal story gimmick to imply _safer?_

She swung around, giving the other way another look of it's own.

In the distance she could make out smears of purple and green, whether that was light reflecting off the water or some kind of fauna was debatable. More importantly, there was a grey undertone to the darkness over there. Likely a possibility because there was more light over there. However, there was also more moss covering the odd plank from what she could see, and the wood not covered looked to be splintering the farther away it was from her starting position.

This dilemma almost made Hermione growl into the silence. Had this been a storybook, she could have easily drawn clues to what path was safer for the hero or heroine from the word choice the author included.

This wasn't a storybook, and she was drawing a blank on which path would be correct.

Or if there even was a correct path. Life sometimes refused to follow predictable patterns.

**ǂAǂ**

Hatake Kakashi wished to say he was surprised.

He wasn't, for the record, but he wished anyways.

The being dead and sitting at a campfire well after his last breath of life escaped him was meh. He'd experienced weirder.

Seeing his long dead father sitting at the same campfire, like those long ago camp nights they both used to do well before Kakashi hit and then powered through the Konohagakure shinobi academy… well, still not the weirdest.

The holder of the weirdest thing Kakashi had ever seen was still held by Gai cross-dressing for a day of training, only to end up taking an emergency rescue mission and dragging his self-proclaimed rival along for backup without ever changing. No matter the amount of alcohol he, Genma, and Asuma put away shortly after returning to the village had eliminated the image of a skimpy sundress wearing taijutsu master fighting as usual from their memories.

Getting killed protecting one of the younger generation was okay, sort of. Kakashi might not have given much thought to how he would die, just sometimes wished it to come sooner rather than later. As it was, that death was something he didn't mind at all. The Akimichi heir was a friend of Naruto's, from the watch duty Hound had participated in he _knew_ that, therefore Kakashi was perfectly okay with dying for him.

Getting killed with a nail of all things was a little embarrassing. Especially for a retired ANBU agent, elite jōnin of Konohagakure, and as the last Hatake alive.

Slightly worse than getting killed by a nail was that his father was waiting for him on the other side and drew the story out of him. Sakumo was more than just a little entertained by it, discounting the fact it had ended with his son's death.

Kakashi was only thankful he wasn't sitting around a campfire with Minato-sensei or Obito and being forced to tell them the horrible story of his own death. It was a small mercy, but one he was thankful for anyways.

"…I was wrong."

"Oh?"

The younger rubbed the back of his neck, thinking all those years ago to a very horrible period in their lives. Just before his father committed seppuku. "Back then, when I… I was wrong. You were a great otou-sama, and a shinobi. A great hero, no matter what the village thought of you. It took a very good friend of mine to point it out for me before I realized it."

Sakumo shrugged it off, but the slow curl to his mouth showed he was rather touched by his son's words. "You were young, Kakashi. I forgave you a long time ago."

While it was liberating in a way to hear that from his father, Kakashi hadn't forgiven himself for it. He had a long laundry list of regrets and bitter wishes, even his father couldn't knock that one off with only a few words.

"Tell me how your life went." The elder Hatake insisted after another comfortable moment, in which the two of them basked in the presence of the other. It had been a very long time since they could, and both of them were ninja enough to be greedy about the comfort.

Although he didn't really want to tell his father about his failures through life, Kakashi did as he was told anyways.

From Minato-sensei formally apprenticing him, Kushina-nee taking care of him when the blond future Yondaime couldn't due to the Third Great Shinobi War, to his genin team. Then how it all broke apart, first with Obito's death then Rin's… then that thrice cursed night both the Fourth Hokage and Uzumaki Kushina died. ANBU Kakashi glossed over, because no matter if this was his father before him regulations were strict about who you could tell about any of it. Sakumo seemed to understand, so the younger Hatake then shifted to his few friends and colleges. Gai to Genma, then to Raido and Tenzou, to Asuma and Kurenai. He told the older man the better days of talking on the next Team Seven, of the hate heaped on Naruto and Sakura's fangirl tendencies and before Sasuke became a traitor.

Of a C-ranked escort mission that turned into an A-ranked liberation mission of an oppressed country.

Then he told his father how the beginning of the end started.

The Uchiha Massacre and the fallout of that. Of his genin's Chūnin Exams, then of Snake traitors and cursed seals. The Invasion by Sunagakure that was only turned away due to his most scorned genin going toe to toe with another jinchūriki and winning. Then Kakashi told Sakumo how they slowly lost Sasuke to his blind quest of vengeance, their first attempt to bring Sasuke back, and how after waking from getting Tsukuyomi'ed into a coma Jiraiya the Toad Sage claimed his godson's attention then skipped out for two years and how Sakura demanded Tsunade train her when it seemed as if she would be left behind.

Left with no students and little else in barely more than a week of time, of how Kakashi limped back into ANBU for those horrible and lonely two years.

Then of Naruto's homecoming, and finally getting his last two students back.

Kakashi, by then, had been talking for hours so he skipped parts here and there from then on, about the temporary death of the Kazekage after Shukaku's extraction and Akatsuki's appearances in hunting down the jinchūriki. Then Asuma's death, and the effects of that. Sai and Tenzou's, named Yamato for the time, attachment to Team Kakashi, then encountering Orochimaru again and the first time Naruto lost his control over his bijuu. Then how Jiraiya dies, and the truth of Itachi's actions and the mental snap Sasuke went through when he realized he hated the wrong person for years.

Then Pein's invasion of Konoha, and the first of the fighting Kakashi had time to participate in before he was struck down in defense of the Akimichi heir.

The silence that fell between them when Kakashi finished wasn't uncomfortable, like the younger had thought it might become if he told his father of his life. The older Hatake didn't look disappointed or anything as Kakashi's nightmares had insisted the man would be if he knew how much of a failure his only son had become. Sakumo didn't look happy over the twists and turns his life had taken, granted, but not disappointed.

"I've known shinobi who buckled under a fraction of the stress you've been put through, Kakashi." Sakumo reassured him after another moment marveling over his son's drive to survive and live, even if it was only because of a promise to see the future with his dead teammate's eye. "I am proud of you picking up and carrying on, no matter what had happened."

It was a bitter and mostly lonely life, but there were high points as well. Not nearly as many as any father would wish for their only child, but it was his life and therefore the older shinobi was proud of him.

"…I am kind of disappointed I have no grandkids, though."

Kakashi blinked slowly at his father. "You have got to be joking."

Sakumo rubbed the underside of his jaw sheepishly. "No, not really. After your kaa-chan died… grandkids were something I was really hoping for. If I couldn't have more children, then it was up to you to see to it."

Given the younger Hatake was more concerned his father would be disappointed in him for any of the numerous fuck-ups he had a finger in, the fact his only complaint was about Kakashi's eternal bachelor status was a little… irritating. In a good way, the younger shinobi hastened to tack on even if the thought was only in his head. This was his father, and his father had forgiven him so everything else was ignorable.

Mostly.

"There wasn't really a great wealth of options, otou-sama…"

"Nonsense. You're a _Hatake_, as Jiraiya put it we're a little too pretty for our own good." Sakumo insisted with a lopsided grin, waving away his son's attempt to justify his lack of effort on that end. "And don't even say there weren't offers, because there were plenty offers for an arranged marriage well before you stopped wearing diapers."

Kakashi felt a vein in his temple tick in irritation, and smoothed out the expression he was sure was plastered over his covered face. Thank the _kami_ it was only the two of them sitting around the fire, he didn't want to know what Obito would have done with that kind of information. "Yeah, well… with both your reputation and sensei's hanging over me, then my own once I was actually of age for anything like that, taking a wife or having a family would've been more risk than I wanted to tempt fate with."

"Point…"

"Iwagakure alone would've-"

"I got the point, Shi-kun." Sakumo interrupted, not sharply but with enough disgruntlement his son smirked safely behind his ever present mask.

He accepted his victory with all the grace his strange relationship with Gai had instilled in him and changed the subject. "So now what?"

"Hmm?"

"We're dead, right? Where _is_ kaa-chan, and Minato-sensei? Or Kushina-nee and Jiraiya-sama?"

"Aa… well… about that." The older, because Sakumo lived to be just shy of thirty and Kakashi wasn't quite there yet, Hatake hesitated over that question enough to make his son suspicious.

"Otou-sama?"

"You're not _quite_ dead yet, Kakashi. Close enough to have a near-death experience but not enough to cross over." Waving a hand at their little campfire, then at the dark skies above them, the older shinobi gave a one shoulder shrug. "This is… real in the same way it's not, conversely."

"Are you trying to tell me this is all in my head?" Kakashi was used to disappointment, knew the emotion more than he liked to admit to. Hearing that this wasn't any more real than a genjutsu was bitterly disappointing.

"So what if it's all in your head? That doesn't make it any less real, you know."

It should have been harder to sneak up on two jōnin of Konohagakure, but the woman did just that. Neither shinobi had been talking loudly, but then again there wasn't a whole lot more noise to cover up their conversation either.

It was only after Kakashi gave her an once-over, taking in the odd robes and the way she held herself like a civilian with no great taijutsu training, that he noticed the grass around her feet were making no noise. No footsteps from her boots, no rasp of grass bending and scraping against itself, no annoying twigs snapping.

She, while the younger Hatake was coming to his own realization, gave the two of them a look over of her own before acquiring a small blush and executing a very odd bow. "Oh… forgive me for interrupting. I'm just passing through, continue with your near-death visit."

Kakashi blinked at her blankly as Sakumo quirked a wry smile for her. "I would ask you to explain to my son your comment, miss."

"A-are you sure? You really only have so much time, surely it's best if it comes from you?" She asked instead of heeding the request, glancing between them both.

"I've said what I needed to say." Sakumo reassured her, but his son saw how he considered the young woman standing before them uncertainly. "I don't believe we've met you before, so…?"

"I am Hermione Weasley… err, Granger. I suppose my husband is released from our wedding vows on my death…" The last part was mostly her mumbling to herself, but both shinobi heard it clearly with their trained hearing. Which made how she snuck up on them even more confusing, because Hatakes had very good hearing. "Erm… anyways. As to this… this is what I believe might be called Limbo, it's where the spirits of the dead linger if they have a great enough wish to speak with the living or wait for them to join them in the afterlife. Theoretically it's not someplace one can _physically_ perceive, which is why this is technically happening in your head."

Kakashi blinked at her again, which slowly changed to suspicious. "Your head or mine?"

"Either, both. The technicalities are really rather superficial." Hermione-san shrugged, waving a hand around dismissively. "However, this is the only plane of existence the dead can converse with the living without outside aid. Which means more living visit this one than normal."

There was a long pause before she continued.

"Again, theoretically."

"Prove it."

She blinked at him, as if he had suggested the strangest thing ever. "Think of something you have, that isn't on you at the moment, and _want_ it in your hand."

Feeling rather naive, Kakashi did as she instructed. Thinking of Minato-sensei's hiraishin kunai and wishing he had it again because it was comforting no matter how long it had been since the man was alive.

The heavy weight that suddenly pulled his hand down caused the jōnin to stare at the three-pronged kunai now gripped in his hand.

"Since I have no idea what that is, other than a very sharp if strange knife, that was your mind that affected this place." Hermione-san informed him softly, frowning slightly at his continued silence. "I suppose it also can extend to the place we are in, in one being able to change the setting… but I haven't tested that yet."

"Like how?" Sakumo asked, because Kakashi was a bit too distracted with his sensei's old kunai.

"Like say I wanted… oh, damn!"

Jerking his head up, the younger Hatake blinked at their new surroundings.

It was a very _strange_ castle on a hill, one that looked like Gai and his protégé had used as a target and smashed a few boulders into. There were some parts of it Kakashi wasn't sure how it remained standing, given that from the look of the supports under it should have collapsed long ago.

"Well… that's not…" The young woman coughed quietly. "Gentlemen, what would you say if I said welcome to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"There is no such thing as witchcraft." Kakashi repeated an oft-used ninja-civilian fact in a neutral tone of voice.

"I was afraid of that…"

Sakumo blinked at the marks of some battle that was fought here, then gave their unexpected guest a long look. "Are you suggesting there is?"

"Well… given you're talking to a witch…" Hermione-san trailed off and shrugged uncomfortably. "What do you think?"

**ǂYǂ**

**Day 0**

Hermione tersely explained to her two tagalongs about the basic reasons a fight took place here, and what defenses the castle had, then begged them to remain in the ruined Great Hall before running for her favorite place in the castle.

The Hogwarts library was just as it appeared in her memories, a quiet and cluttered place filled with books and tomes of magical applications. The only lack was the absence of Madam Pince, the rather strict librarian. The likelihood there was any kind of tome on what happened after death was so unlikely it was ridiculous, but Hermione was always calmer in the library than anywhere else.

Once alone, the witch found her former favorite spot and slumped into a seat. Spending a decent amount of time running her thoughts through both her actions here and in the clearing before.

Not only had she inadvertently shown two likely muggles the greatest castle of magical learning in the world, but even the briefest of looks would have raised suspicion over how the castle could stand on it's own… much less had she given into her first impulse and changed their surroundings to something less incriminating. Inviting them in had just been the path of least resistance, and hopefully the one where she might remotely extract a promise from whichever one wasn't completely dead to not talk about this.

It wasn't likely it would be believed, but breaches like this put the whole magical society at risk and Hermione was an upstanding citizen… now, at least.

With a wry snort for that thought, Hermione finally got to looking up the afterlife in any and all terms she could think of. While she was sure this wasn't actually Hogwarts castle itself, it _was_ still a library.

She had dismissed the tomes on past lives, as it was shelved on the Divination section of the library, and the thick book on different afterlives of different cultures after skimming the section on Limbo before settling on a rather strange book from the Restricted Section titled _Planes of Death and Assorted Realms_ by one Peter Nacion.

A very strange last name, given the situation. Hermione was rather sure this book wasn't something she'd ever see again.

"Impressive." The older of the two silver haired men, the one that introduced himself as Sakumo, commented as he wandered into the high ceiling room literally packed with shelves and desks.

"Did you have any trouble with the staircase?" She asked instead of letting her irritation with him not remaining in the Great Hall break loose, moving to a table so she wouldn't get a crick in her back from reading standing upright.

"A little, a very… strange thing that was."

"They like to move when you stand on them, especially if you happen to be late for class." Hermione absently informed him, already a few pages into the book's section on Limbo. "The west side one likes to go somewhere different every Friday, as well."

According to the book she was reading, and she tucked away the strange thought wondering if taking advice from a book that was possibly not real was a good idea or not, Limbo was a division of Hell where those souls that passed into it was judged. Not really a Purgatory in type, it was where souls were sorted for the Christian faith's Heaven and Hell.

Which was almost word for word what her other skimmed book had informed her of.

Hermione bit her lip as she turned that over in her head. So possibly this place was just a holding place for souls?

No, this was somewhat like what Harry had told her, Kakashi had summoned that strange knife just like how Harry initially got his clothing. However, the Man-Who-Won also had a guide who knew what was going on in his recently departed loved one… no matter how angry or irritated the old wizard had made Harry, he had still looked up to him.

Well… given the sheer number of people alive at any one time, the number of visitors to this realm or place couldn't be that small. Possibly it was just likely two having a near-death experience at the same moment had never crossed paths before…

…or this possibly wasn't Limbo _or_ whatever Harry had visited before, in and of itself.

Albus Dumbledore could've just used the more slang term for being between, as in being held in limbo, and not the actual place _named_ Limbo.

"By Morgana…"

"What?"

"Wrong book." Hermione responded instead of saying the phrases she had once scolded her husband for saying, shutting the heavy tome and leaving it where it was as she thought some more on the issue.

Possibly there might be something if she could find a book on near-death experiences?

An errant movement scraped her necklace against her collarbone, reminding the witch that there were a few more pieces to this puzzle than could be possibly written about.

"Hermione-san?"

"Err… what?"

Sakumo, for all that he was some strange person Hermione had met wandering the edge of the swamp she had found herself in on her death, looked slightly concerned. "Do you know what is going on? I had expected maybe a few hours with my son, and yet it has been much longer than that."

"I have a suspicion… but this shouldn't be possible." Her own words made the witch snort at herself. "Then again… what is _possible_ and what is not is rather flexible when it comes to… never mind. Yes, Mr. Hatake. I have some idea."

"Mr.?"

"It means the same thing as your suffix –_san_." She reassured him, stalking to another set of shelving to investigate her next lead. "I highly doubt, due to our clothing and how it differs alone, that we speak the same language. If I recall correctly, social suffixes are things that occur in the Far East cultures… and therefore, since I am rather certain I am not talking in a language I have not yet learned, we are more than likely speaking different languages."

The older man, and he _did_ look older than her even if it seemed to be more general wear and tear of a muggle's stressful life than the slow ageing of the magical society, nodded shortly as he took that suggestion in. "Which would be why I can't read any of this."

"More than likely… though Kakashi may actually be able to effect that somewhat… where is he?" Hermione turned to Sakumo as the question occurred to her, since this was a possibly semi-sentient castle no matter what realm it was present in.

"Exploring." He reassured her cheerfully as if that wasn't directly against what she had asked them both to do. "He's always been a restless one."

"Well, then… I dearly hope the suits of armor aren't patrolling for any non-students. Or that any of the castle's other defenses are activated, though I'm more than certain they have been deactivated in this version of it." She informed him archly, a little nettled by the flouting of her request. Then again, they had just as little reason to trust her as she had to trust them.

Which would make getting them out of this mess, whatever it was caused by, more than a little tricky.

"Something wrong?"

"Other than the fact I am mostly sure of, that we shouldn't have been able to meet? No, of course not."

Sakumo didn't even twitch at her sarcastic quip. "So what does that mean for us?"

"Something has gone wrong." The witch informed him as if it was possibly news to either. "I am uncertain if this is because of you two, or me… or…"

"Or?"

"Possibly something much more… ancient and otherworldly."

The Deathly Hallows… they weren't exactly tools of _mortal_ make. An Invisibility Cloak such as the one the Potter family held should have only lasted _decades_ if it had been made by purely human efforts, and yet it was an heirloom of unimaginable age. Same with the Resurrection Stone, as it's powers of calling the souls of the dead to the user wasn't something that was possible outside the banned arts of Necromancy. Even then, to summon something that had gone on before carried with it a hefty price and corrupted the final product no matter how careful one was. The Elder Wand… Hermione preferred it's current use to speculating what it could otherwise do.

The damage Grindelwald and Riddle did alone searching for it was example enough, much less that Harry's holly and phoenix feather wand was mended by the Death Stick… when according to any wand lore known that shouldn't have been possible.

"Do you know _what_ it may be?"

"Possibly."

The man arched a silver eyebrow at her. "Will you inform me of what?"

Will she? Hermione bit her lip, fixing the man with a searching stare.

Messing up once was bad enough, would she actually risk the hundreds of years the magical world had hidden itself from everyone just to free the three of them from whatever they were stuck in? On the possibility it may or may not help them escape?

It was rather easy to answer that, she had to only think of little Teddy and Victoire.

"No, I do not trust you nearly as much as I should for such a thing."

Sakumo didn't look surprised, in fact he still didn't even twitch, just gave her a level look.

Hermione still felt like she should justify herself, simply because he was someone to talk to and he was older. "My society has been hidden for centuries, for both good and bad reasons. I will not discard that so easily just to save myself, much less two others I do not know nor trust not to use what you learn of me against me and mine."

"Blind obedience must have it's uses."

That stung her a bit, no matter how wrong he was about her. The witch snorted in response and turned away from him to find herself another book. "I've committed treason before, only I and the others I was with did it to save _thousands_ whose only crime was the circumstance of their birth. Do not judge me, Mr Hatake, for you do not know of what you speak. Three lives against the hundreds that may fall if I speak? We do not compare."

(ooo000ooo)

Sakumo found his son watching the deathtrap staircases, probably trying to find a pattern to the movements.

Neither shinobi really tried that hard after the civilian woman had left them in the room without a ceiling, both had merely scaled the walls after getting over the fact the stairs moved freely and without an obvious pattern.

"Well?"

"You might just have to befriend her just enough to loosen her tongue."

Kakashi gave his father a flat look. "Didn't you say not to antagonize her? What did you do?"

"I may have implied she was being blind and stubborn." Sakumo informed him blandly. "Turns out she isn't, _if_ what she spoke of was true."

The younger shinobi gestured to the damaged parts of the strange castle around them. "This didn't clue you in she might be more dangerous than most?"

"She might have only been here for the cleanup."

"It wouldn't have shown this kind of damage, then. Not if it was taken from her mind and made real." Kakashi refuted, standing straight up. Or more like horizontally, due to the fact his ninja sandals were planted on the wall next to an odd painting of an empty room. "This is more like if she fought here… then couldn't go back due to either circumstances or events pulling her away. If she was just one of many fighters she would have stayed to fix it up a little, otou-sama, it's only key personnel that get pulled away before such things are finished."

The elder eyed his son, shrugging that off with a sigh. "Well… anyways. She may know what is keeping us here, she confirmed that much before ignoring me."

"We could-"

"Do you know what kind of damage a _witch_ can do, Kakashi?" Sakumo interrupted before he could even suggest interrogation. "I do not, nor do I know if we can defend against such a creature in enough time to remain mostly unscathed. Until we have more information, that's probably not a good idea."

Hesitating merely made his father hammer the other points home as if it was only a matter of fact.

"We may need her to help us escape this strange situation, since Hermione-san seems to have some idea on how to fix this… but I highly doubt she needs us to do it. If we frighten her off… she may just leave us stuck here."

There was a long moment of silence as he accepted that assessment.

"So… go make a new friend, Shi-kun!" Sakumo patted his son's head cheerfully, eyeing the staircases behind him. "I believe in you."

(ooo000ooo)

**Day 1**

"It's been over twenty-four hours, Hermione-san."

"Is it your turn to question me then?"

Kakashi hesitated, still a decent way away from the table she had set herself up at. "I was actually asking if you knew where to get something to eat."

"That may not be a good idea." Hermione frowned slightly at some of the books she had already poured through and dismissed from her growing collection of 'to be read'. "A few stories involving the realms of the dead include a warning not to eat food here, as swallowing seeds of a certain fruit may trap one here. A year for every seed, to be specific. Are you actually hungry, or are you asking from habit?"

"Habit. Do you know what seeds we should avoid?"

"Sweet pomegranate seeds, from the story. Though I don't know what they look like." Hermione though it through again, and even took another look at the book that held the story of Persephone and Hades. "It makes no mention of anything else… but that may just be because the first option tried to tether a living someone in the realm of the dead worked."

"That's… disturbing."

"The young lady trapped would agree with you on that… except she eventually ended up married to the Lord of the Underworld, the one who trapped her."

"And that's even more disturbing." Kakashi informed her blandly. "Is it alright to sleep?"

"I do not believe we may need to. At all." Hermione informed him slowly, as the distraction was pulling her from her supposed 'research mode' Harry and Ron liked to complain about. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't even tired yet. Given she spent a few hours wandering the edges and the only walkway of a forest and a swamp respectively, she should have been somewhat exhausted well before meeting him and his dead dad. "Though there are dormitories if you would like to try."

"Where?"

The witch thought about the four house dormitories, and the methods of gaining entrance that may or may not work. "Well… there's the two towers, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Towers, as well as the Slytherin Dungeons and Hufflepuff's Den. I don't actually know how to get into the badger's burrow, and the lion's den might be defunct due to the picture guardians not being here… so either the snake pit or the raven's roost."

He gave her a one-eyed flat look, which made her wonder if she should mention Mad-Eye and his magical eye prosthetic to him… but that was part of the reason the magical society had hidden themselves. Shoving that thought to one side, and what the man himself would think of her recent blunders, Hermione informed him of the Hogwarts School Houses, what they supposedly stood for, and a bit of their Founders.

It was while she was explaining the true Slytherins to watch out for, the ones that were never sorted with the rest of the snakes, that the library door opened with a bang.

Hermione's books nearly toppled off their piles and onto her… but Kakashi flinched and whirled around to confront whoever it was that threw the doors open.

Alastor 'Mad-Eye Moody' scowled at the both of them, especially at the witch gaping at him. "You sure took your time picking someone, Granger."

The witch _gaped_ at the dead wizard currently scowling at her, but blurted something out before the strange man she was with could do anything about their abrupt guest. "Mad-Eye, who stole and wore your eye for almost a full year?"

The man snorted, but whether out of disgust or irritation was up in the air. "Bartemius Crouch Jr. Who injured us both a year after that, lassie?"

"Antonin Dolohov."

The wizard gave her a look with the one eye not currently spinning around like a top, then growled at what seemed to be nothing. "You going to come out and stop lurking around, old man?"

Sakumo slid out of absolutely nothing, and had it been at any other time Hermione might have questioned him and his appearing act… but Alastor's appearance was just a hair more important. "Why now? What changed?"

"You thought of what I would think of your situation, not just what I've previously said or thought." The gruff old Auror informed her sharply. "Not sure if I should smack you one for dragging me into this mess or be honored you thought of me for advice, Granger."

(ooo000ooo)

**Day 2**

Kakashi wasn't sure if he should be horrified at the sudden appearance of the old warrior or alarmed with his ragged features.

He was rather amused at his father's disgruntlement with the man's almost free spinning eye, which managed to pick him out nearly effortlessly.

'Mad-Eye', as Hermione called him, was apparently the guide for the young witch just like Sakumo was for him, his late arrival was only because she hadn't thought of wanting someone's advice until she had been talking to Kakashi about the school's inner workings.

His belated arrival did mean he had some idea of what was going on, and how to fix it. However, their conversation was rather stilted given they were discussing something neither wanted either shinobi to know about. It made their conversation rather awkward to try following along, to say the least. They had only recently either given it up as a bad job or finally got the point across to each other, and now both were bent over the research the woman had been doing for almost a full day before his appearance.

"Wrong society, Granger. What made you think of Greek legends?"

"They were the only ones to have stories of heroes venturing into Hell or Hades or the Underworld and get out without being dead." The witch defended her choice of topics rather sharply, still scowling at the grizzled old man. "It was the first ones I thought of, and given I'm sure both Kakashi and I would like to go back and continue our lives it was a good bet."

The man had a _peg-leg_, which made Kakashi cringe slightly to hear thumping around as he moved. He was somewhat sure the old warrior knew it, that eye was even creepier than a Hyūga's Byakugan, and was moving around just to make him flinch slightly.

"Your best bet would've been Celtic or old Scottish folklore… but even then."

"I know. I don't supposed you were given any advice about it?"

"Never happened before… you weren't supposed to be a keeper of it. That boy of yours was supposed to guard them."

"Harry asked me to, it was the only reason I accepted."

Mad-Eye accepted that with a half sneer, shrugging off the fact Hermione had used to defend her possession of whatever it was.

"I don't suppose we can now learn about whatever it is screwing up with the normal order of things?" Sakumo asked deceptively lightly.

Kakashi would like to know as well, he had a battle for his home to get back to and would like to do that well before he started forgetting some detail or another that would make his fellow ninja suspicious of him. T&amp;I wasn't the best place to be sitting around, especially not if someone wanted to be sure Kakashi was who he said he was.

"No. I don't trust you." Mad-Eye told him just as bluntly as he seemed to always be, which made Hermione sigh and roll her eyes.

"Mad-Eye, you don't trust anyone. If we need to wait until you do trust them we'll be here until the end of time."

"He doesn't trust you?" The younger Hatake asked of the witch.

"Nope. I'm the lesser of three evils." She returned dryly, snagging a different tome to bury her nose in.

Since his father had set himself up to be the one to draw suspicion, Kakashi turned his attention to helping her. What they were looking for was a bit beyond them, but comparing old legends of heroes escaping the realms of the dead was something to occupy him until they finally did find some way out of this mess.

…or someone actually started talking.

In the meantime, Sakumo started an argument with Mad-Eye over what the two shinobi had a right to know. It was something both Kakashi and Hermione only listened to with half an ear, he was probably better at following along than she was given her non-reaction to a few of the barbs his father threw out. It wasn't until Sakumo brought up the events on pause in the living world did the witch actually drag her attention back to the matter at hand.

"That's how it should have gone." Mad-Eye countered, eerily calm in the face of the elder Hatake's irritated question. "Had things gone on as normal, both Granger and your boy there would have returned to where they were. That's not going to happen now."

"What!" Hermione yelped, almost dropping the books she tended to be rather protective of. "What do you mean?"

"You brought an _eldritch token_ into this." The old warrior snapped, unapologetic and surly. "You didn't really think this was going to be as simple as finding a spell or ritual to correct it, did you?"

"Well… yes." She returned just as bluntly as him, planting her hands on the table between them all. "Token or not, I assumed I'd give it up and we'd go back to what we were doing."

"Not possible anymore." He informed them all blandly. "No, instead we're going to have to do this a slight bit differently."

"How different?" Kakashi asked lazily, but nearing the edge of his patience with all of it. It was one thing to be able to see his father, an entire different thing to be trapped somewhere with the man if he had the option to finish out his life.

"Think backwards."

(ooo000ooo)

"Mad-Eye, you must be joking." Hermione slowly told the paranoid old wizard slowly. He really _couldn't_ be suggesting what she thought he was.

The legendary old Auror didn't even blink the only eye he could at her tone, which was probably a slight bit patronizing to be honest. "I do not joke, Granger."

"That's _illegal_. Besides, humans have only ever managed a day at the most and the rules-"

"Don't apply." Alastor barked instead of allowing her to finish. "That's man-made methods, not what we're dealing with. And I'd thank you not to suggest I was telling you to break the laws I upheld most of my damn life!"

"What, exactly, are we talking about?" Sakumo interjected calmly, glancing between the two of them.

"Time travel." Hermione informed him shortly, still glaring at the old wizard.

Kakashi twitched, in a very strange manner if the witch was pressed, then he marked his place with a finger like she tended to do when interrupted and leaned forward. "_Time travel?_"

"Granger is the guardian of one of Death's so-called boons." Mad-Eye spilled the beans they had been tiptoeing around rather easily, bland and gruff as if commenting on the weather. "That threw a spanner into the works the moment she had her own near-death experience, because the ones that come across the damn things are usually killed either by or for them. She _wasn't_, and therein lies our problem."

"_Fine._ So a day, maybe just a few hours?" Hermione gritted out, her experiences with a time-turner in her third year of Hogwarts reminding her of all the ways it could have gone wrong. "Then we can all pretend this never happened?"

"The pretty piece of rock is more powerful than that, Granger, and you _know_ it."

"_Bad_ things happen to those that mess with time, Mad-Eye."

"We're not the ones messing about." He returned sharply. "That rock is."

Sakumo interrupted before they really got going. "How much?"

"Possibly two decades or so."

Both Hatakes went still, even as Hermione made an inarticulate sound of irritation. "_Time is not that flexible, Alastor!"_

"Says who?"

She snapped her teeth shut, glaring at the wizard. "Says every study ever done on time itself."

"Which was done by wizards and the odd muggle. Neither of which can pull off the power to truly rearrange time and space." Alastor told her blandly. "Just ask the High Queen Mab."

"If I ever wanted to be killed or enslaved by a wrong word choice, I would surely ask the Queen of the Fay that question about her power."

"How do we do that?" Kakashi interjected before Mad-Eye could respond to her sarcastic retort. "Not the question thing, the time travel."

"Do you really want to be a child again?" Hermione asked of him, slightly surprised and a little confused.

"I'm pretty sure I can think of something to do."

"_I_ have no wish to repeat my schooling. Or to muck about with time." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at all three of them. "If it's that or be dead I think we should remain dead."

"Good thing that's not possible then." Stumping to a chair, Alastor gave her a sneered smirk. "You both are technically not dead, therefore you're not allowed to remain here forever. I know what you worry over, Granger. And you're right, it could have all been a lot worse than it ended up being. But it could have been better, and if you have the opportunity to ensure it and don't have the luxury of ignoring that then you should by all means try."


	2. Part One, Chapter Two

**Author's Note** : So we end the prologue with this, and actually get into the beginning of the story without the basic info dumps needed to set up the major plot points. Just to confuse you, the prologue isn't part one. Part one is childhood, up until Hermione finally goes back to Hogwarts. We will have more of Kakashi than Hermione up until that point, then more of our witchy woman, then back to the ninja for a short while then back to Hogwarts, and… yeah. You get the point, yes? How will this also be pairing Hermione and Kakashi? Next chapter... I think.

Yes, we're keeping **Déjà vu** story elements. How Konohagakure works as a village, the features of fūinjutsu, and Summoning especially. Because I did the world building already, so we're going to use it.

* * *

**All Your Base Are Belong To Us**

**Part One, Chapter Two**

* * *

**Still Day 2**

After Alastor Mad-Eye Moody dropped his little bomb, Hermione extracted herself from the library and the conversation still on-going to get herself some thinking space.

Using the knowledge six years living in the castle with one Harry Potter trouble magnet had given her, not to mention the time she had spent exploring lesser known parts on her two years of Prefect patrols, she easily found herself a remote nook well out of the way. Then she took a seat against the wall and allowed herself to brood.

It wasn't just the prospect of being forced to redo the entire second half of the wizarding war _and_ six years of Hogwarts that was making her baulk over the whole idea. It was the death-defying she, Harry, and Ron had to do through it all. Some of that they had lived through only by _sheer dumb luck_.

Not to mention Alastor's comment on her worries for the death-toll it extracted from magical Britain.

Yes, if Moody was correct and she had to do it all again she would be not only better informed but more mature and probably better help for Harry… but Malfoy Manor _alone_…

Hermione couldn't repress the shudder that went through her, nor her reflexive gripping of the spot Bellatrix Lestrange had carved the word 'MUDBLOOD' into her arm with a cursed dagger.

There was also the Basilisk, they had been insanely lucky there had been no deaths that year with a thousand-year-old King of Snakes slithering around the pipes. Sirius Black might not had been a threat they had to guard against, but the Dementors were given they never wanted to leave Harry alone. The Tri-Wizard Tournament and the mockery of it that took up their fourth year had been just stupid, Dolores Umbridge and the DA in fifth…

Really, their sixth year was the only one that remotely had any resemblance to an actual scholastic year, and the school had been _invaded_ at the end of it.

Seventh year was self-explanatory, they couldn't afford the risk alone.

Supposedly safest place in Britain her arse.

Afterwards Harry hadn't wanted to return to it because he didn't want to go back and face the lingering echoes of what they had lost, Hermione because after a year on the run she hadn't been able to muster the motivation to return to being a student, and Ron… because he then wouldn't need to take the NEWTs.

Sometimes she really did wonder why she married him…

_Ron_. If this happened and they did it, she would no longer be Hermione Jean Weasley. Her husband would be no more, the man he became might as well had never existed. It wouldn't be her husband she would see next, it would be that insensitive little boy that caused her to cry in a loo and get cornered by a troll.

Hermione placed her head in her hands, trying not to pick apart her feelings over that.

She was either dead, about to be dead, or existing in a moment just before her death. No matter which way she looked at it they would end up no longer married.

No longer married, no longer part of the Golden Trio, nothing more than muggle-born Hermione Granger. Only just the smartest witch of her age, and way too young to do anything for a couple years.

To make it all worse, all the work she had done in her life was about to disappear as if she never did it.

Certain corrupt pure-blood families would still be in power, paying off their crimes at best and hampering the modernization of the wizarding world so the muggles wouldn't catch them with their robes up at worse. Any and all legislation she had helped pass in the last half a decade would not exist…

_Fudge_ would still be _Minister_. _Sirius_ would still be in _Azkaban_. _Harry_ would be with the _Dursleys_.

"Hermione-san?"

Kakashi, part of her mind identified absently. For such a man gifted with the ability to present himself as a non-entity he was surprisingly pleasant to be around.

"Give me a bit. I haven't come to terms with the thought that all I've ever worked for is about to disappear like so much smoke."

"…sure."

Hermione didn't bother to see if he did leave her alone or not, she held the suspicion both Hatakes merely slipped outside of her senses when either one left then circled back.

Sakumo's appearing trick was a rather big tip off on that end.

"It can't be that bad, can it?"

The formerly bushy haired witch lifted her head to give the one-eyed man a bland look. "Yes, yes it can be. I don't particularly wish to be tortured twice, or have to aid and abet a revolutionary group under the nose of someone that had no compulsion against mutilating the students she was _supposed_ to be teaching."

"…aa."

"That doesn't even include the fact I have to risk death twice more before I learn anything I could remotely use to defend myself with, or that I will have to sneak this all under the nose of someone that can easily read minds… make that two people, _and_ put up with someone managing my best friend into walking to his own bloody death just to end _one damn war!_"

"What?"

Hermione gave a bitter laugh, dropping her hands to her lap. "Harry… oh, _Merlin_, Harry… we'll have to go through that thrice cursed Hunt again."

Kakashi fidgeted a bit, and slunk down to sit across her little cubbyhole behind a tapestry of a tree. "I have to figure out how to save both of my teammates, my sensei, and his wife from dying before their time."

"We have an immortal madman who will spend three years trying to kill us before we remove his immortality."

"I have a snake traitor that's obsessed with immortality who tried his hardest to destroy my home and may make off with one of my students."

"I will end up spending ten months out of six years living with bigots that have no moral issues with strangling me young and murdering my parents for the supposed crime of my birth."

Kakashi hummed at that, crossing his arms over his vest. "I've got to protect my sensei's son from morons trying to use him like a weapon or a battery."

Hermione winced at his offer. "Ouch. I've got a whole year of being on the run and living with a price on my head to redo."

"There will be a war on in my country if we get sent back as far as your Mad-Eye person claims."

She sighed, cradling her temple with one hand. "We'll be currently in the stalemate part of our own, though that will only last barely a decade more before the opposition takes over and starts slaughtering a large part of our society."

"I've got twenty years of combat likely missions to redo."

"I have to re-break into a bank that had previously never been successfully robbed before, a part of our own government's building then again a few years later, and a very nasty man's personal stores."

"Quite the little thief, aren't you?"

(ooo000ooo)

Kakashi counted the small lift of her lips a win.

It was rather impressive, given he figured that should be equivalent to C- or B-ranked infiltrations depending on the circumstances. She had done four of them, one place twice, and that was something he could see his comrades in arms bragging about over drinks.

That also solidified the impression she wasn't a civilian, or at least not completely. Possibly retired, given her resistance to doing any of it again.

_Kakashi_ wasn't looking forward to redoing a lot of his life again, but the benefits on his end outweighed the drawbacks.

"I have to arrange a breakout or an acquittal for an innocent man trapped in the worst prison known to man."

She definitely was _not_ any normal civilian, if she prioritized the breakout before the legal method of release.

"How is it the worst?"

"Soul-sucking wraith-beings guard it."

"Aa."

Well, she very well may have a point with that.

Kakashi gave some attention to sanitizing his next point before informing her of it. "Somehow, I need to prevent a kid from being forced into murdering his family and going on the run as if he wasn't ordered to do it."

Hermione blinked up at him, nibbling on her lower lip. "I have to figure out how to either prevent or reduce the amount my best friend was abused, without being able to remove him from that household due to the protections it has."

"I…" the shinobi trailed off and heaved a sigh, "have to deal with fangirls again."

"I am going to lose my husband no matter what we do."

That _did_ top Kakashi's reluctance to be cooed over as a midget genin, truth be known.

"We're going to go back to being short midgets for a few years."

She snorted, then groaned. "I'm going to have frizzy hair and buck teeth again."

"Really?" Alright, he supposed he deserved the glare she gave him for that. Waving one hand lazily, he at least lessened her ire enough she didn't get up to do anything witch-like to him. "Right, sorry. So?"

"So." Hermione agreed slowly, tilting her head back to stare up at the high ceiling. "This is not going to be pleasant… but if it saves even a handful of lives…"

"The pain might be worth it?"

"So long as we manage not to get ourselves killed early on, maybe."

Kakashi snorted, pushing off the wall and standing up to tower over her. "Are you always this pessimistic?"

"Only when it comes to losing everything I ever worked for. Are you trying to tell me you're always this cheerful?" Hermione countered pertly, in an almost sing-song tone of voice.

"Only when it may annoy someone, if you listen to my co-workers."

(ooo000ooo)

"I know what you are."

"Oh?" Sakumo questioned in a noncommittal tone of voice, giving the grizzled old warrior his attention.

His son had gone after the little witch, after giving her some time to come to terms with things. Leaving the elder Hatake with the latest arrival to their little group.

Missing a leg, eye, and chunks of flesh would have marked him a warrior to keep a wary eye on alone, the fact his spinning blue eye seemed to track what Sakumo figured was his son through the stone walls was another.

This warrior also treated the young witch as someone who he _knew_ would keep up. Giving more credence to Kakashi's theory that she wasn't merely a civilian pressed into service to defend, but a key fighter in her own right.

"I don't know whether to be disgusted or amused. _Ninja_. Sounds like a delusion of some snot-nosed little brat."

Sakumo gave the old wretch an unamused look. "And we are dealing with a young witch and a…"

"Wizard, obviously."

"Wizard. Sounds like someone's mad fantasy to me."

Mad-Eye gave a barking laugh, reaching down to physically muscle his peg-leg into a better position.

The shinobi considered it, then decided he had shifted to give himself a better initial position if he needed to move in a hurry.

He could respect that.

"What will happen to us if this goes as you think?"

"You might still be dead. I won't have the memory to help." Blunt and unapologetic, the man shrugged the topic off dismissively. "Depends mostly on them after that."

Kakashi would then face redoing most of his life, for better or for worse. Sakumo wondered what it said about him if the witch was more reserved about the possibility than his son.

Probably that he found his life as depressing as his father did.

"Fine. Saying Hermione-san agrees, how are we sending them back?"

"That will take a wee bit of doing, truthfully." Alastor mused gruffly, raking a hand over his coarsely shaven jawline. "It all isn't supposed to work this way, and we'll be stretching a few things that were never meant to be messed with."

"That makes me feel so much better about this, Moody." The tart voice drew the two older fighters to the return of their younger charges, even as Hermione and Kakashi rejoined them. The witch had a troubled frown stubbornly affixed to her lips, but seemed not as upset as she had been when she left.

"Wasn't supposed to, Granger."

"Okay," the younger Hatake interrupted with a raised finger, looking between the witch and the wizard, "his name is…?"

"Alastor Moody, but he was nicknamed 'Mad-Eye' due to that incredibly creepy thing affixed to his face." Hermione informed him dryly. "One of the most legendary Aurors of our time, a dark wizard catcher, he was feared even well after his death."

Sakumo was glad he had initially categorized the old warrior as such, mentally reclassifying him as something similar to a retired hunter-nin. Mad-Eye didn't look pleased at her talking about him at first, but grunted and sniffed at the news his legend did at least linger on after his demise.

Kakashi bobbed his head, probably readjusting his own view of the crotchety old warrior. "So."

"So." Hermione agreed with another nod of her own, turning to the two actually dead members of their group. "How _are_ we doing this?"

"Hold you horses, you've got a little time. Not much, but enough to make a few plans." The twisted snarl that passed over Mad-Eye's face probably wasn't meant as evil as it came off, but still made all three of them that saw it instantly wary. "You can't take anything here with you, but you can prepare somewhat."

She kept on eyeing him, even when the two shinobi shared a look. "And by that I take it you mean…"

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He barked at her, surging up to his foot and peg-leg then smirking at the aborted grab for something from the other two men. "You've got to hoodwink the greatest mage of our time, not to mention counter the grasping attempts by rogue elements to kill that laddie of yours. But… you'll be starting off unarmed and sequestered away from anything really useful."

"I am aware of my starting limitations, Alastor." Hermione informed him, twisting and plucking at her fingers. "The Headmaster… I know for a fact may be an issue, but it's Snape I worry about. He's the one I'll have more contact with."

"Good. Means you're thinking." It wasn't unkind, and the grizzled old wizard stumped over to her with a shrug. "Occlumency will be key. You're also going to need the basics of going wand-less, and that I can arm you with. Something to think about for later, animagus training. Damn useful, that."

He gently took the witch by the arm and led her out of the library, leaving the two shinobi wondering what they were discussing.

Until Sakumo turned to Kakashi with a wide grin. "Son, I take it you might need help with-?"

"…a child's reach in taijutsu?" The prodigy Hatake heaved a sigh, not looking forward to that at all.

Given that he would probably be facing one keenly intelligent Namikaze Minato the moment they did go back? Any and all aid he could get would only help.

**ǂBǂ**

**Day 3**

"…you may want to think hard on your friends."

Hermione froze, narrowing her eyes on the old Auror. "What, exactly, do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what you think, Granger."

She respected Mad-Eye, she did. However, if he was suggesting what she thought he was…

"Ron is not only my husband but my friend."

"Not just him, either. There were a few people you should have never given the time of day to, and a few more that would have been assets had you actually talked to them." Moody mused aloud, running whatever idea he had through his head a few more times. "But if you're going to bring him up… look, I liked Arthur and Molly. Their brood was something else, if I have to be honest. Ronald was… not typical of that."

"If people would stop comparing him to his own brothers, maybe he wouldn't have had as many issues." Hermione gritted out, before looking over to the two Hatake males ambling into the Gryffindor common room.

Sakumo had broken in for her, when she sighed over the fact she wouldn't be able to return to the tower due to the Fat Lady not occupying her portrait. The vexing man didn't say how he did it, nor why part of the wall had been removed to open the entranceway, but the witch appreciated the gesture anyways.

Alastor didn't seem to care where they bunked, which made her wonder what House he had belonged to in his school days.

To her alarm, it seemed as if Kakashi was limping a little before he sprawled out on one of the couches.

"You didn't try to go up the girl's dormitory staircase again, did you?"

He snorted at her, then cast the feature named a dirty look as his father snickered. "No."

"I _did_ warn you."

"Why are all of your staircases evil?" Kakashi wondered with an acid bite to his tone, looking more than a little disgruntled even with most of his face covered. Rather impressive as a feat, even for the magical community. "They are supposed to connect one level of a building to another, not actively try to discourage travel between them."

Hermione very carefully didn't show her amusement, and wondered if…

Could Kakashi or Sakumo break into the Headmaster's office if the castle was actively defending itself?

She apparently failed to keep all her delight over his misfortune to herself, he gave her an evil-eye then huffed and sulked a little in his seat.

"Focus, Granger." Mad-Eye interrupted with a grunt.

"We're not continuing that conversation."

"Time will not go on as it had." He sharply returned, she wasn't sure if he was irritated or not by her stubbornness because he always sounded gruff and grumpy. "We, _you_, will end up ripping the fabric of time apart just to free yourself, and him over there, from this place. You will not be the same Hermione Granger as before, not nearly as naïve nor trusting as you once were. Therefore what happens around you will never be the same as it had once been."

"That doesn't mean-"

"He nearly got you killed a few months into your first year!" Moody barked instead of allowing her to finish. "He abandoned you two _twice_, once when you were being _hunted_."

"The troll was _not_ Ronald's fault. In no way can you pin the blame on him for that." Hermione denied tartly, trying her hardest to keep calm. Blowing her top was _not_ ladylike, nor was she sure if Mad-Eye was trying to get her to lose her cool for whatever reason he may have.

She did wonder if it was because he was dead that he knew of the few months in winter she and Harry had gone without Ron's presence.

"I see you've abstained from addressing his desertion."

"It was a very nasty, horrible situation we were in." She frigidly informed him, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the old wizard. "Harry and I may not have had much family to worry over at the time, but he had his family to think about. They were _also_ in the middle of the worst of it, with a big target painted on their backs from their long association with us."

"I don't agree, obviously." Moody grumbled. "I know what you _think_ justifies his actions, and I still maintain he had no right to leave you two at all. In the dead of winter, the middle of nowhere, _and_ possibly risking both your position and whoever had to put up with him."

"We moved around too much to have been caught that way." Hermione gave him the look she thought that deserved. "You know, there may be a reason why you never found anyone to marry or have children of your own with… just a thought."

He gave her a sneering grin, sharp and dark in a way that slightly disturbed her. "Oh really? I never would have guessed."

Kakashi gave a delicate cough, drawing the two mages' attention to the fact there were more people in the room than just them. "Uh… story time?"

The only woman in the group sighed heavily, pressing the bridge of her nose with the fingers of her left hand. "Moody is talking about my husband, who was an insensitive little snot as a young child but grew up to be a good man."

"I'm not saying he isn't, Granger. Just that maybe someone else would be better placed as your third."

"There is nothing wrong with Ronald!"

"I think I agree with your Mad-Eye, actually." Sakumo interjected before Hermione could lose it over the slights to her husband. "Do you really _have_ to risk death because of him?"

"It solidified our friendship together…" Hermione allowed slowly, puzzling her early Hogwarts years over in her mind. "I suppose repeating the same series of events just to do that all over again is a little foolish."

"And manipulative." Moody tacked on almost gleefully now that someone had gotten the witch to be less defensive. "Could also be irrelevant in time too. Not to mention forcing the same events from before will have you forever comparing the kids to the adults they grew up to, no matter how long you know the second versions of them."

Kakashi reached a lanky arm over to pat her on the hand. "I think maybe you should find yourself a different husband, actually."

Hermione gave him a flat look, flexing a bit of magic she knew intimately to light her hands on fire with bluebell flames. "Thank you for your unsolicited opinion, Hatake."

The shinobi jerked away from the flicker of fire, even if Mad-Eye cackled.

The witch sighed, collecting the charmed fire into one hand and dumping it onto the low table situated near the wall. Both Sakumo and Kakashi kept staring at the blue fire, even after they realized it _wasn't_ burning the wood it was sitting on.

"What _is_ that?" The older Hatake questioned warily, drawing closer and poking the table the fire was situated on.

"Bluebell flames. A specialty of Granger's." Alastor sounded almost _proud_, which gained him two incredulous looks from the younger of their number. The man snorted in response. "I can count on one hand the number of us that can pull off something as complex without the usual tools we normally use. The fact she managed it even upset and irritated without losing control _is_ impressive."

"Remus could too." Hermione informed him pertly, strangely pleased with the boasting he was doing on her behalf.

"Lupin was another few years older than you before he managed it wand-less." The grizzled old warrior pulled himself upright, instead of the strange half-slouch perch he had been in. "It will be harder when you go back, but at least you know you can do it now."

"I realize that."

Moody gave her a sharp nod, then looked to their ninja guests. "You two set yet?"

"I'd like another spar, just to be sure." Kakashi shrugged, waving one hand. "That we can do at just about any time."

"Fine. Break time's over Granger." Even with a peg-leg, the grizzled old Auror managed to get to his foot rather gracefully. "A few more hours of prep-time, then we'll work on ending this little vacation."

(ooo000ooo)

"They left it here."

Kakashi looked over to see what his father was talking about, and stared at the merrily crackling blue fire still coating the top of a table. "…are we sure that's not going to burn the tower down?"

Sakumo narrowed his eyes at the sight they both were staring at, kicking the table lightly.

Both shinobi drew back sharply when the fire rolled a bit and covered another section of the wood.

"I vote we ignore it unless it actually starts burning something." Kakashi might have touched it once, but it wasn't a chakra created fire and therefore of unknown ability and something he didn't want to poke again.

Sakumo gave his son a short nod. "Agreed."

**ǂAǂ**

**Day 4**

Hermione speed read her way through another Occlumency book even as Moody loudly lectured her on basic contingency plans she might wish to set up or implement or her return.

She wasn't sure if she was surprised the old paranoid Auror had knowledge of the books he had shoved into her hands or confused. While it did explain why Albus Dumbledore never realized Barty Crouch Jr. was impersonating his friend, with Moody's paranoia he was probably obsessive with his Occlumency skills, why did Harry never read the same books during his Occlumency training with Snape?

She had the feeling that and a few other lingering questions were something she would eventually find out, given that she'd never be nearly as trusting of authority as she had once been and she would now be harder to distract or divert.

"_Granger_."

"I heard you. Anything near Crawly?"

The wizard considered that. "You know where the train tracks are?"

"A bit north of my parent's home, yes."

"Before they cross under Hawth Avenue, the flyover? First tree on the west side."

Hermione stared at him, which he only snorted in response to.

"Really."

"Light up your little fingers with your flames and tap it's exposed roots until a part of the trunk pops open." Moody continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Basic brewing kit, some ingredients that keep well, a small foe glass, and a bag of coins."

"You have a stash of wizarding supplies in my mainly muggle home town."

"You say that like it's surprising."

Hermione brushed that aside, because it really wasn't in a way. "Anything I would need to watch for?"

"Don't touch the sides of the bark when reaching in. I never got around to using it, should be safe enough until you can get your own supplies."

She sighed, plotting out how she might slip her parent's watch long enough to at least collect the bag of wizarding money. "This would be so much easier if I could risk getting an owl."

"Don't. How the bloody hell would you explain that?"

"Which is why I've discarded the idea." The witch snapped, gripping the edges of the book she had been reading. "What would be even more helpful is being able to get an adult witch's or wizard's help. But again, that's also something I can't risk."

Moody snorted again. "Damn straight."

Hermione sighed again, closing the book because she had read the sections on building up one's Occlumency shields already. "Isn't there any way to get your help? Anything I can do or say that would get the living you to listen to me?"

"No." He shot her down bluntly, scowling. Whether at her or himself was questionable. "I am a paranoid, suspicious old tosser. Nothing that I know can help you, because I will be instantly suspicious of anything you may try. Then I'll change my methods up if you do, and you'll be in the dark yet again… but then with a very ornery codger after your hide for knowing more than you should."

"A fate worse than death, indeed."

He cackled at her snippy reply, stumping over from where he had been pacing before they were derailed. "It's not a complete loss, Granger. You managed to be an insufferable thorn in the sides of the Death Eaters without the benefit of two decades of extra knowledge, this time you might even become the Order's equivalent to Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Lovely comparison, Mad-Eye." Hermione drawled, ignoring that her lips twitched in an attempt to smile.

Although that was also slightly concerning. Bellatrix had done massive amounts of damage before Molly got to grips with her, the former Black sister had taken out some rather formidable fighters from Frank and Alice Longbottom to Sirius Black.

Hopefully Moody wasn't calling her nearly as crazy.

"I suppose we should get a move on, then." Hermione changed the subject, setting the book in her hands to the side. "None of us are getting any younger."

"I'm not. You are." Mad-Eye countered almost cheerfully, for him, grinning in that twisted way of his. "Then again, in another way, we both may be."

"Very funny."

(ooo000ooo)

Kakashi, in all his midget glory, skidded back from his father's kick aimed at his stomach. Then the man turned child ducked again, that time just enough to feel Sakumo's punch disturb his hair.

"Better." The older Hatake claimed, but plucked his son up by the harness he used to wear to sheath the White Light Chakra Saber in when it wasn't broken. "I do kind of miss doing this, though."

His son looked rather disgruntled at the interruption. "Why are you stopping?"

"Aww… you look rather cute as a kid."

Kakashi strictly denied there was any blushing going on, twisting around in his father's hold to see the new arrivals.

Hermione had a very wide smirk on her lips, even if Moody at her back looked highly unimpressed.

"Whenever you two finish up, we're ready."

"Maa, maa… we'll be in shortly." Sakumo claimed with a bright grin.

"You couldn't have said something?" Kakashi questioned quietly, releasing the modified henge that made him child-sized.

Being Uzumaki Naruto's jōnin-sensei had it's benefits, learning his stupidly intensive and almost permanent transformation technique was just one of them.

Sakumo patted him on the shoulder, a little harder than usual for someone giving sympathy to another. "If you're not going to pay attention, you deserve it."

"_Thanks_, otou-sama."

Kakashi straightened his jōnin uniform, for what would possibly be the last time for several years, then followed his father back into the strangely ceiling-less great hall of the castle.

It had changed a bit, the four great tables and their benches that once ran down the length of the chamber had been stacked on either side, barring a large open space. Moody was quietly informing Hermione about whatever he knew about getting them out of there.

She… didn't look impressed. "You must be joking."

"Does it look like I joke, Granger?"

The witch huffed at him, glaring even as she moved to take off her necklace. With the pendant in one hand she beckoned to Kakashi with her other. "Say your goodbyes, Kakashi. Time to leave the old men to their retirement."

"Oi!" Sakumo protested, giving his son a miffed look when he merely gave him a jaunty wave of two fingers as he passed him.

Hermione ignored any attempts to glare at her, peeling the gemstone out of her pendant instead. It didn't seemed designed to open up, but once she had it she first looked to him to ensure he was ready then to their dead fellows.

"You two might want to back up."

The stone, from the look Kakashi got due to shinobi curiosity, had some kind of image in it. Which was odd, because other than the crack it seemed to be a naturally formed chunk of jet or onyx.

With a perfectly formed geometric pattern trapped inside.

Hermione swiped her thumb over the lines, ignoring that a slivery light followed in it's wake… and the silver lines that suddenly formed on the flagstone floor to cage the witch and shinobi inside.

She repeated the patter three times before something happened.

If ever asked, Kakashi would liken the sensation to Gai dropkicking him in the chest.

**ǂTǂ**

**September 22n****d****, 1985**

She flailed slightly, scrambling for the little calendar set up next to her childhood bed that had faithfully tracked the date for her until she started Hogwarts. Then she stifled a very nasty curse word.

Hermione Jean Granger, smartest witch of the age and one third of the Golden Trio, was _six_.

She felt like smacking someone… but bloody hell did she _hurt_.

Luckily it was a Sunday, she didn't have primary to deal with just yet.

No, instead she had that to look forward to tomorrow.

Dropping the wire bound calendar and curling up in her bed, ignoring the little part of her that worried over what her parents would say to her lazing about, Hermione vaguely wondered what was hurting.

Taking stock of her body and what hurt, it seemed as if the cursed scar Antonin Dolohov gave her during the battle at the Department of Mysteries had flared up again. Which made no sense, she was supposed to be physically six and hadn't participated in the fight yet.

From the feel of it, she didn't have the scar either.

Curious, Hermione stretched her weak feeling arms until she had the inner part of her left elbow.

The scars spelling out 'MUDBLOOD' weren't there.

She wondered how she felt about that.

It was a hated memento from a very crazy witch torturing her… but she had been proud of herself for not breaking and giving up her best friend.

She was distracted from her own arm by a knock.

"Hermione? Love? Are you up?"

Twenty-eight years of age or not, the witch blinked a few tears back at the sight of her mum cracking open her door. Who didn't give her that wary look she always had after Hermione altered her parent's memories of her before going on the run with Harry and Ron for the Horcrux Hunt.

That massive blunder hadn't happened yet either.

"N-not yet."

Helen Granger frowned slightly, pushing open her daughter's bedroom door. "You look a little queer, sweetie."

"My stomach hurts." It didn't hurt anything to be honest, and it rather did.

Hermione submitted to the older woman feeling up her forehead easily enough, but flinched slightly when her mum brushed a hand over her belly.

"Hmm… do you want to stay in bed for a bit, then?"

The witch considered that. "With a book?"

"Of course." Helen gave in with a small smile, waving a hand to the only half-filled bookcase she would spend all of two years with before filling it up and getting a new one. "Which one do you want?"

Hermione drew a blank. What book did she like at this age? Which ones had been published, and which ones hadn't?

"Pick for me?"

Her mum plucked a rather worn book and handed it over with a small smile. "Try not to get too caught up, love. I'll check on you in a few more hours."

Her daughter nodded obediently, plucking at the worn cover she knew quite well.

Once her mum closed the door behind her, Hermione hauled her protesting body up to a sitting position. The book, from the _Dragon Riders of Pern_ series, toppled into her lap as the witch absorbed the fact she had _five years_ to go.

While five years of meditation to improve whatever Occlumency skills she may have was a good thing, five years of twiddling her thumbs until she could return to Hogwarts was depressing.

Not to mention four years of primary school.

If things were the same, she would be enrolled in Hilltop Primary and had just started her second year. She was already established as a bossy bookworm know-it-all, unfortunately.

Unlike the first time around, Hermione wasn't nearly desperate for any friend.

She'd be getting her friends back at Hogwarts, and as a twenty-eight year old witch she was mentally well suited to waiting however long she had to.

Harry was definitely worth it. So were Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom, Ginny and Ron Weasley…

A flick of blue drew her eyes down, and she moved her book before it smothered the tiny bluebell flame she had accidently summoned to life.

Mad-Eye and his advice to not befriend Ron to the same extent could go hang. He _was_ a friend, even if he was a prat sometimes.

She cradled her little flicker of charmed fire in one small palm and raked her other hand through her hair… or tried to.

Right, the other reason she hadn't wanted to return to being a child.

Her mane of wild and bushy hair, an untamable mass until she finally grew out the length and it's natural weight straightened it out a little. Which, as typical for a girl who just woke, was snarled and messy from her tossing and turning as she slept.

Why, oh _why_ had she kept it shoulder-length for her childhood?

Hermione smothered the flame she still held, using her newly freed hand to help her extract her tiny fingers from the rat's nest on her head. Then, blindly reaching for the brush situated on her bedside table, she set to work taming her bushy hair.

Five years of… what? Meditation, working on her wand-less skills, and probably…

Her first assumption of wizarding kind had been correct, most didn't have an ounce of logic to them. However, given she had just recently survived a brush with death due to not crediting the creative methods they used…

…maybe she should get a newfound appreciation for fairytales.

Hermione weakly wrestled with her brush for another few moments, finally getting the last snarled knot out, before wondering how Kakashi was dealing with his new lease on life.

He seemed rather keen on it, from the time they spent in the empty Hogwarts look-a-like.

The witch sighed, and turned her attention to more pressing matters that what someone she may never manage to see again was thinking. Raising her right hand up, she concentrated on calling up the same fire she had already accidently created.

Even before she got her Hogwart's letter, Hermione had been actively attempting to control and replicate the feats she could do with accidental magic… even if she hadn't had any idea of what her ability really was.

It was all just a type of wand-less, just more untamed in nature. She had taken a bit of silent pride in the fact that, while pure-blooded children probably got tutored and helped a bit to upstage the muggle born before going to Hogwarts, _she_ had accomplished a type of wand-less completely on her own.

Hermione had gotten fairly good at it as well, at minor usages unlike what Harry tended to pull off at the same age as her, until Professor McGonagall made a house-call to the Granger household.

Learning that under-age magic use was frowned on and _illegal_ had gotten her to stop… but she wasn't so conforming anymore. She also might just _need_ the ability, especially if she wanted to do something before actually being formally invited into the magical world.

A wicked smirk crawled across Hermione's lips as a lick of fire went up first her index finger, then a sheet spurted into existence and coated her palm with gentle warmth. It was nowhere near as controlled or tame as she used to be able to do, and the drain on her magical reserves for such a simple charm was _staggering_ compared to before when she held her wand… but her hand was on fire.

The true test of her development to use wand-less magic reliably would come from trying to cast and hold onto a spell she _didn't_ have an affinity for, but conjuring bluebell flames wand-less was still an accomplishment in and of itself.

It flickered out before long, leaving a tired miniaturized witch staring blankly at her own palm.

Ten seconds of a palm sized flame wasn't any great feat, for an adult witch even without a wand.

For a six-year-old child, no matter the knowledge she held? She had thought she wouldn't have been able to hold it for five without some decent time spent working for it.

She supposed finding Moody's stash of supplies should be next on her list of things to do.

After a nap.

**ǂUǂ**

Kakashi woke up… and spent a long moment mentally cursing out whoever it was that decided to get him drunk.

He'd had hangovers before, sure… but this one took the prize for worst one ever.

Maybe he had been caught drinking by Gai? It felt like someone had worked him over rather well. Asuma was banned from being their designated sober friend, this was the second time in a row he let the two of them get into a taijutsu spar dead drunk after a drinking challenge.

Haltingly, the Hatake prodigy carefully levered himself upright. Still with eyes closed, habit since one eye ate up his chakra like it was nothing and it felt like it was irritated already anyways, he swung his leg over whatever it was he was sleeping on and shifted to stand up.

Only for his foot to meet air… and way too late for him to abort the movement.

Kakashi ended up crashing into the floor face-first, his ungraceful sprawl ignored in favor of getting the world to stop spinning.

He eventually gave up a lay there until he felt a little better, wondering what the hell had happened last night.

Thumps, which was odd enough because generally his few handful of drinking buddies tended to dump him in his apartment and leave him there after a night out, steadily growing louder made the shinobi stiffly turn his head to see who was coming.

Minato-sensei, bleary-eyed and clutching a painfully familiar three-pronged kunai, wrenched his bedroom door open. "Kakashi-kun? What's wrong?"

"Ow."

It was the first thing that popped into his head. Other than 'was the witch-wizard dream true' question that made him clam up faster than Gai confronted with dead baby turtles.

That was _Namikaze_ _Minato_ standing in his bedroom doorway.

Which had to be impossible, because the man had been dead for over a _decade and a half_.

Said dead man heaved a sigh, setting his weapon on the Hatake's dresser and padding his way over to his prone form. "I _told_ you, didn't I? Maybe you should cut back on the training a bit."

Kakashi had no words to answer that with, because he couldn't really recall any conversation they ever had about his training regimen. Admittedly, that was probably because he had ignored the blond whenever he expressed concern over him.

Kakashi was an utter dick of a person, but he had known that for years.

Apparently not expecting an answer, which just made the prodigy feel even worse for how he had treated the future Yondaime when he had been just his jōnin-sensei, Minato carefully plucked the significantly smaller than usual Hatake off the floor with one hand. "Where does it hurt?"

Rattling off a list of things absently, Kakashi ran his mind back over his apparent not-dream.

Huh, wizards and witches existed… and he spent a few days with a few during his near-death experience twenty some odd years in the future.

Okay. Good to know.

If he ever saw Hermione again he should probably thank her for whatever she did that resulted like this in the first place. Moody he was avoiding, flat out.

The man still gave him the creeps, and the wizard wasn't even there.

The soft sound of breathing reminded him that there was another in the room with him, and Kakashi tilted his head around enough to see Minato's flat expression.

Right…

Both Sakumo and Minato had a very bad habit of treating Kakashi like a piece of luggage, back when he was young enough to be lifted with one hand. The first time around the young Hatake had _hated_ it when the blond unintentionally mimicked his dead father's habits, omitting the fact he hadn't known he was doing so because Kakashi didn't talk about Sakumo to him at all.

Minato was probably bewildered that the silver-haired shinobi hadn't immediately kicked up a massive fuss for doing it again.

Instead of heeding his first impulse, which was to apologize for every damn thing he ever did to make the blond's life more difficult, Kakashi merely gave him a flat look of his own and repeated his first comment. "_Ow._"

"…maybe you're sick?" The jōnin wondered aloud, reassured that this still was his little prodigy of an unwilling house guest. Now, instead of being suspicious that who he held wasn't Kakashi, Minato ran his free hand through his messy hair and studied him from arm's reach. "Are you sick?"

The younger shinobi could only shrug, but the grimace that painted itself across his face from the movement finally got the other moving instead of staring at him.

Getting tucked under one arm was humiliating… if Kakashi had actually been a snotty little brat like he used to be. It was still humiliating, but the nearly thirty-year-old jōnin who occupied the child's body just ignored that and appreciated the fact Minato was alive and worried over him.

It had been a long time since anyone worried for him like Minato had.

Kakashi was eventually carefully dumped on the blond's living room couch, the man himself abusing his hiraishin technique to leave.

Probably to get backup, from either the hospital or…

An eye-watering flash of yellow light later, Minato reappeared holding one very irate Uzumaki Kushina bridal style.

Who was dressed in skimpy clothing in respect to the late summer night's heat and looking very pissed Kakashi's jōnin-sensei had just plucked her out of her bed with probably little to no warning.

"_Minato!_ So help me, if this isn't a damn emergency I'm gonna-"

"I think he's sick!"

Kushina stared at the cringing blond until he set her on her own feet. A well-timed shove to the chest got Minato to fall backwards over his own coffee table even as the kunoichi crouched down before the sliver haired prodigy and blinked her green eyes at him. "Kashi-kun?"

"Kushina-nee. Ow."

It _was_ funny to see Minato get manhandled by the headstrong Kushina, true… but the feeling of being worked over by a bright green taijutsu master hadn't gone away ever since Kakashi had woke up.

In a vastly smaller form than he was used to.

The blond gave a pout, even as he levered himself back upright from where he landed on his palms. "Why does he like you more than me? He _lives_ with me!"

"Obviously, I'm _awesome_." A few deft tugs here and there, and the redhead had gotten Kakashi lying flat on the couch with minimal additional stress. One cool hand was pressed to the man-turned-boy's forehead as she used one of the few medical jutsus she knew well, an iryou-nin diagnostic technique.

Uzumaki clansmen didn't tend to make good medic-nin unless they devoted a lot of time to refining their chakra control. Something to do with the incredible stamina and chakra reserves most were born with.

Kami knew Naruto hadn't ever gotten the hang of even the minor ones Sakura tried to teach him.

"Hmm… something weird is up with his chakra system." Kushina declared after a moment, pursing her lips and smoothing back Kakashi's rooster hair with a pat. "You probably overdid it today, badly."

Minato had, by then, gotten back to his own feet and was standing by his student's head. "So he's okay?"

"Might be in the process of getting sick, but alright for now." She agreed absently. "Go get him a blanket."

"Why?"

"Because he's a kid, Minato! He can't retain the body heat we can, especially not if he's getting sick." The kunoichi sighed and rolled her eyes when the blond bolted to fulfill her order. "He's an idiot."

Kakashi, because the woman was part of the reason he developed the sense of humor he had later in life, nodded weakly. "I know."

Namikaze Minato was a terrifying shinobi, he would eventually have a flee-on-sight order before the war finally ended and would become their next Hokage. Fear inducing to his enemies or not, when he got slapped with taking care of one recently orphaned Hatake prodigy the man had absolutely no clue what to do with him at first.

Much like Sakumo had been at a loss when he was suddenly trying to raise his son on his own.

From what he remembered, Minato would lose the slightly awkward edge around him only a little before picking up Nohara Rin and Uchiha Obito as Kakashi's teammates for Team Seven.

Two? Three? More years, from the look of things.

Kushina snatched the thin blanket from Minato, from the look of it the one that had survived the trip from the Hatake clan compound, and spread it over the tiny form on the couch. "Stay here, and in the morning I'll make you miso soup for breakfast."

"With eggplant?"

She quirked a smirk at him. "Sure."

One of the things Kakashi would have cheerfully murdered to have again, Kushina's cooking. Obvious bribe or not, he accepted with just a nod.

She beamed at his easy agreement, reaching out with a lightning fast hand and snagging his sensei's left ear. "Alright, just try to get some sleep and we'll take another look at you in the morning. Minato. A. _Word_. Please."

The blond probably could have dodged that.

Kakashi wondered if it was the attraction between the two of them that made Minato put up with Kushina's less than loving touches.

Anyway it happened, still amusing to watch the jōnin cringe as he was yanked around by one ear.

She pulled them far enough away that one sick or miserable young prodigy would've not bothered to try eavesdropping, but not far enough to be ignored by the jōnin shinobi he grew up to be. "Try to keep him in tomorrow, or if you can't have him stick to light training. I don't know what he did, but if he's suffering this much from whatever it is a break is needed so he won't kill himself."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Bribes, weren't you watching?"

There was a rustle of something, odd noise from two shinobi of their caliber. Probably Minato gripping something out of frustration. "He doesn't take bribes from me!"

"Then you don't have anything he wants. He's eight and a _chūnin_, try using something he might actually like to do with you. Sparring, show him a jutsu or two, _something_ he'd find interesting."

Kakashi sniffed lightly as he pried his left eye open to check it. Age and rank had been two of the things he hadn't been sure of, thankfully Kushina had supplied it without him being forced to ask.

Although irritated and watering, it seemed as if he really didn't have Obito's eye anymore. The chakra he could once see with his sharingan didn't show with his left eye open, meaning he had both his original eyes again.

That would have been a little hard to explain, so on one hand it _was_ a good thing.

A heavy sigh drew the prodigy's attention back to the conversation going on barely a room away. "So I take it you're staying?"

"For the night." Kushina agreed, kunoichi enough that the agreement was matter-of-fact and not embarrassed or self-conscious at all. "I'm stealing your bed."

"What?"

"You're the one who dragged me out of mine, _you_ can stay up and keep an eye on the gaki so he doesn't get worse. Only wake me if he develops a fever or has trouble breathing. No wait, if the latter happens take him to the hospital."

She left the blond spluttering in what was probably his kitchen, padding over on silent feet to double-check on the prodigy she had been all but kidnapped to check out. "How are you now, Kakashi-kun?"

He'd already learned his lesson about shrugging, instead he hummed in answer.

Although the blanket trapped heat was helping a little, he still ached in places that didn't normally hurt unless he had been overextended something. From the feel of it… it was just like he had overextended every major muscle group all at the same time, and a few minor ones just for the hell of it.

Kushina tilted his head to see his irritated left eye better, frowning slightly. "You're not pushing chakra into this, are you? I didn't think your clan had any eye based traits…"

No, but Obito's eye ate massive amounts of chakra on a daily basis. Even if Kakashi left it covered and kept his lid shut. It was possible it was just ingrained habit to feed the eye a little chakra over the years he had a sharingan implanted in his skull.

The burning, itching sensation faded slightly now that the prodigy had a clue what was wrong and stopped trying to feed chakra to something that wasn't there.

That habit would probably take a bit to break.

Kushina frowned at his continued silence, but eventually just tucked in the edges of the blanket before heading for Minato's bedroom. The blond himself looked slightly disgruntled at getting kicked out of his own room, slumping into the stuffed chair across from the couch without another word.

"…sorry."

"Eh. These things just happen." The older, physically, shinobi claimed lightly. When all Kakashi did was stare at him with one eye, Minato rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Part of the reason they didn't want you living on your own, actually. So it's okay, honest."

Kakashi had long perfected the skill of talking without actually talking to someone. Minato might have meant it was alright to get sick every now and again and need help, but the prodigy was actually referring to the little hellion he had been originally.

However, they both were also _shinobi_. Which made it just as likely the blond had understood some of what the apology was for, and was just choosing not to make it even more awkward than it had to be.

More likely, Minato was accepting an apology for Kakashi's past-recent difficult behavior.

It worked for the both of them.

"Think if I get sick again, Kushina-nee will come back and make us breakfast?"

Namikaze Minato would eventually become one of the most revered shinobi Konohagakure would ever produce. Feared by many, adored by his village.

However, at this point in time he was a healthy young man, who had a kind of painful to watch crush on the redhead in question…

"I will _pay_ you to fake that a few times."

…_and_ a shinobi.

Kakashi thought about it.

It wasn't like he could suddenly change his behavior to be less of a colossal brat overnight, something like that would raise any number of red flags for a lot of people. As a chūnin, and a lesser extent as eight-years-old, he had been rather obsessed with his shinobi skills and not much else.

"Teach me some raiton jutsus?"

He probably knew most of what Minato could teach him, but he had already been acknowledged as a prodigy well before this anyways.

The man hummed, giving Kakashi a knowing look. "Was _that_ what you were doing that got you into this mess?"

"…no?"

That got him a disbelieving look, but it wasn't like he could tell him _what_ had happened before waking up earlier. Kakashi almost didn't believe it and he _lived_ it… or died it? Was dead through it?

No, according to both Sakumo and Moody, was near-dead through it.

The shinobi suppressed a shiver at the thought of that peg-leg. That had nearly happened to any number of his colleges, _seeing_ a man with that replacing a leg had just made it more disturbing.

_Do not_ think about the eye, nope. No thinking.

"It was supposed to be white chakra."

"Oh… okay?"

Clan things, always a good way to get Minato to shut up.

The blond was in the middle of trying to get Kushina to see him as a potential boyfriend and somehow finish raising an orphaned clan child in his time off-duty, he had tripped into the dreaded minefield of almost-dead clans more times than he was comfortable with.

"So?"

Minato blinked at him once, before recalling what conversation they had before getting into why Kakashi was supposedly sick. "Aa, sure. I can do that."

"Deal."

An amused smirk crossed the blond's face. "Try and get some sleep, Kakashi-kun."

He would, if he wasn't nearly terrified that this was just the second part of a very strange dream and falling asleep would see him waking up from it. Probably on Sakura's operating table, or in his own damn bed the day before the invasion of Pein.

In the end, his determination to stay awake and watch one of the precious people he had lost well before their time wasn't matched by his body's ability to remain awake.


End file.
